Cast: Sigourney Weaver, Jennifer Love Hewitt, Ray Liotta, Jason Lee, Gene Hackman, Anne Bancroft
Director: David Mirkin
Producers: John Davis, Irving Ong
Screenplay: Robert Dunn and Paul Guay & Stephen Mazur
Cinematography: Dean Semler
Music: John Debney
U.S. Distributor: MGM
Rarely have I seen a comedy that can justify a two hour running length, and Heartbreakers is no exception. At a reduced length of 90 minutes, it might have been less tiresome (although not necessarily better), but, at 125 minutes, it becomes an endurance contest. One problem is that the screenwriters (Robert Dunn, Paul Guay, and Stephen Mazur) think they have generated a script that's more clever and amusing than it actually is. Another is that the movie constantly repeats itself. Heartbreakers feels long winded and desperately in need of a skilled editor.
Max (Sigourney Weaver) and Paige (Jennifer Love Hewitt) are a mother-and-daughter con artist team with a well-honed scam. Max woos a guy and gets her to marry him. Then, when she passes out following the reception from too much drink, Paige arrives to seduce the new husband. After Max catches them in the act, she files for divorce and collects a healthy settlement. Their latest victim is Dean (Ray Liotta), a womanizer who is willing to give up his wandering ways until Paige tempts him to stray. The divorce settlement is $300,000, but it's not enough to pay off the IRS when an agent (Anne Bancroft) comes calling. Suddenly, Max and Paige need a big score, so they head to Palm Beach, Florida to reel in multi-billionaire William Tensy (Gene Hackman). And, while Max is moving in for the kill, Paige starts stalking smaller game - a bartender (Jason Lee) who owns a restaurant on a parcel of land worth $3,000,000. Unfortunately, she commits a cardinal sin and falls for him.
Heartbreakers intends to marry two venerable genres - the romantic comedy and the caper movie. In principle, it's not a bad idea, but the women's con games aren't interesting and the romantic elements of the film are lukewarm, at best. As an examination of a dysfunctional mother/daughter relationship, the movie lacks insight and interest. (If you're looking for something along those lines, check out Tumbleweeds or Anywhere But Here.) There isn't even enough good humor to hold one's interest. Admittedly, there are some funny moments (I think I laughed about a half-dozen times), but most of the intended comedy falls flat. Typically, it's the throw away jokes that are worth laughing at (such as a bit with a parrot or one character's unusual method of fishing).
It would appear that director Dave Mirkin (Romy & Michelle's High School Reunion) wants his audience to focus more on his stars' natural assets than on their acting ability. The camera lingers extensively on the breasts (sometimes barely covered) of Weaver and Love Hewitt, almost to an unseemly point (there's the old line that it's okay to look, but not to stare - and Heartbreakers definitely stares). Everyone knows that sex sells, but this is a little too blatant - it makes Erin Brockovich look restrained. Love Hewitt is cute, and has the petulant act down to a "T", but she doesn't show much range. Weaver gives a relaxed performance (I have always thought of her as better suited to comedies than dramas), but her effectiveness is limited by the material. Meanwhile, poor Gene Hackman spends most of the movie coughing and hacking his way through the part (Tensy is a one-joke character - a tobacco tycoon who is about to drop dead from smoking). Jason Lee is likable, but the film's requirement for him to curb his smart-alecky cynicism makes him seem like a second-rate Ben Affleck (with whom he co-starred in Chasing Amy). In terms of comic work, the top prize goes to the suddenly ubiquitous Ray Liotta (who can also be seen this spring in both Hannibal and Blow), who enjoys the chance to send up his low-level gangster image.
One has to wonder what actors like Weaver, Hackman, and Anne Bancroft saw in this script that encouraged them to agree to appear in it. At its best, Heartbreakers is like one of countless forgettable '80s formula comedies that throws a little light melodrama and preposterous complications into an otherwise bland romance. I don't have anything against nostalgia on principle, but resurrecting this kind of movie is a step in the wrong direction. Heartbreakers is unwieldy, dumb, rarely funny (and never truly hilarious) and largely charmless. It's hard to believe that the film's few assets (four of which appear on Weaver and Love Hewitt's chests) will be enough to save it from a quick trip to video store shelves. The con in operation here is to get movie-goers to shell out money for something that doesn't deliver, and takes a long time not doing so.
© 2001 James Berardinelli